How Thousands in China Gently Mourn a Coronavirus Whistle-Blower

Dr. Li Wenliang tried to warn his country but was silenced. Now its traumatized people visit his spirit online.

Jialun Deng

They come to say “good morning” and “good night.” They tell him that spring has arrived and that the cherry blossoms are blooming. They share that they are falling in love, falling out of love or getting divorced. They send him photos of fried chicken drumsticks, his favorite snack.

They whisper that they miss him.

Li Wenliang, a doctor in the Chinese city of Wuhan, died of the coronavirus on Feb. 6 at the age of 34. More than a month before that, he went online to warn friends of the strange and deadly virus rampaging through his hospital, only to be threatened by government authorities. He became a hero in China when his warnings proved true, then a martyr when he died.

After his passing, people began to gather, virtually, at his last post on Weibo, the Chinese social media platform. In the comments section, they grieve and seek solace. Some call it China’s Wailing Wall, a reference to the Western Wall in Jerusalem where people leave written prayers in the cracks.

As the deadly virus killed tens of thousands around the world, each society will have its unique way of coping with the loss and grief. In a largely atheist yet spiritual nation with little tradition of praying, the digital Wailing Wall allows the Chinese people to share their sadness, frustration and aspirations with someone they trusted and loved.

It may be the gentlest place on the often polarizing and combative Chinese internet. People write down their thoughts and leave. They don’t argue or make accusations. When they do respond to each other, they leave digital hugs and encouragement. I cried as I read through the comments. I found the experience cathartic.

It’s a refuge for a traumatized people. Many people, I believe, feel the same way.

Dr. Li had been an avid user of Weibo, China’s rough equivalent of Twitter, since 2011. He posted his last message on Feb. 1. “Today the nucleic acid test result is positive,” he wrote of the test that confirmed he had been infected by the coronavirus. “The dust has settled, and the diagnosis is finally confirmed.” He died five days later.

Under that post, Weibo users have left more than 870,000 comments. Some people post a few times a day, telling him how their mornings, afternoons and evenings went. Only posts by China’s biggest actors and pop stars can match those numbers, but even those lack the visceral response that Dr. Li’s last post has drawn.

Users feel comfortable talking to Dr. Li. They know he will never scold them or judge them for what they say. They know, after reading his more than 2,000 posts, that he was a gentle and kind soul. He was an ordinary person just like them who enjoyed food and fun and sometimes got tired of working such a demanding job. He would understand.

@毛不易未公开女友: It’s raining now. I like the rainy days the best because I can cry in the rain and no one would notice. This is the first time I've shared this secret with anyone, and probably the last time.

@关于我死亡之前要做的事儿: I played with my phone for a long time but couldn’t find anybody to talk to. So here I am. I can talk to you.

I read thousands of messages people left just on March 26, the 49th day — the seventh day of the seventh week — since Dr. Li’s death. Many Chinese believe that is the day that a person’s soul will finally leave the body and be reincarnated as a newborn.

March 26 is also when Wuhan began to allow its residents to take back the ashes of their loved ones. People queued in long lines at funeral homes. The photos triggered social media discussions of the real scope of the outbreak and the credibility of government’s official toll of Wuhan’s dead. Many of the photos were subsequently censored.

@悲伤与理性: It seems that another doctor in your hospital died today. How can the people in power sit so securely?

Because many people see him as an ordinary person wronged by the authorities and as a hero who stood up to power, they come to him to express their frustration that justice and righteousness haven’t prevailed.

They are angry that only two police officers have been punished for reprimanding him. Many believe the police were acting on orders from higher up.

They also share their relief that China’s lockdowns appear to be nearing an end, their distrust of the official news and their lingering fear of the pandemic.

@凤凰涅槃--绽放的生命: Hope the people behind this will receive due punishment! Hope we can speak the truth here! Hope your family will be taken care of!

Some people complain that the comments are censored, an allegation that is difficult to prove. They worry that his Weibo account could be deleted, just like many others. Then, they will lose the only place they can take a break from a world that has been turned upside down.

They watch warily and helplessly as the pandemic spreads to many parts of the world and the two super powers, China and the United States, engage in reckless and meaningless diplomatic squabbles. Like people everywhere, they don’t know how this is going to end.

But most people just want to tell him that they miss him and wish him the best in the next world.